


Wolves Without Teeth

by Blackberreh



Series: Wolves Without Teeth [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Chronic Illness, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, M/M, Political Alliances, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-07 00:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackberreh/pseuds/Blackberreh
Summary: An arranged marriage would help secure peace between the Senju and Uchiha clans, and Tobirama is more than willing to step up and play his part.But Indra Uchiha is impossible to read. And that makes him dangerous.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't planning on starting yet another story, but I just mentioned this pairing on tumblr and it just... blew up and this came to mind and aaahhh I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.
> 
> A big thanks to Godaime-Obito (on here and tumblr) for helping me nail some details out;;;
> 
> But anyways, for clarification! This is a close to canon AU with the biggest difference being that Indra and Asura were not the Uchiha and Senju ancestors, and they have their on places and roles during the warring states era. 
> 
> Indra is Madara's eldest brother~
> 
> This first chapter's a little short, but I thought that was alright since it's just an introductory chapter;;;;

  

There was something ... different about Indra.

Tobirama hadn't seen him in years, so it was only natural for him to have aged and matured. His hair was a little longer maybe, pulled back into a loose ponytail, and his formal robes bearing the Uchiha Crest were immaculate, as expected. His face was thinner, angular, having lost the baby fat from his teen years, and he had overall grown into a rather beautiful specimen.

But the bags under his eyes were visible, even under the purple eye makeup. Tobirama knew why, of course, but even still it felt hard to swallow.

Indra looked out of the corner of his eye, and his gaze met Tobirama’s. The corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest of smirks.

It took a great deal of self control not to flinch, and Tobirama looked away, keeping his expression as blank as possible.

“Are you nervous?” The voice was soft. Smooth. It was the first time Indra had spoken since Tobirama had entered his presence - and probably the first time Tobirama had ever heard him speak at all.

Tobirama steeled himself, and looked back to the Uchiha. Indra was still watching him, eyes dark, emotionless pools, and Tobirama swallowed. His mouth felt dry.

“Of course not.” He replied evenly. It was a lie - Tobirama was _nervous_ . Very, _very_ nervous. But he was doing his best to keep it at bay. He wasn’t one to openly broadcast his emotions, especially in a situation like this. “Everything is going according to plan. Provided our brothers behave, nothing should go wrong.”

Indra let out a soft ‘hmph.’ Tobirama thought there was just the barest trace of amusement in those dark, dark eyes, but with Indra it was hard to tell. This Uchiha wasn’t like Madara, or Izuna, who both wore their hearts on their sleeves. Indra was like a blank canvas. He never showed emotion for more than a few seconds at a time. It made him unpredictable, and Tobirama wasn't sure how to deal with it. How to read him.

Well. It would seem he would have plenty of time to learn.

Silence built between them as seconds passed. There was noise around them - the Uchiha and Senju cautiously mingling, allowed to co-exist without the threat of bloodshed and death for the first time in centuries, but it was like there was a bubble around he and Indra that separated them from the rest. Tobirama wished that his elder brother had stuck around, but at some point Hashirama has accosted Madara and dragged him off into the crowd. Izuna had taken one look at the two who waited to be wed, pulled a face, and disappeared with a muttered excuse as quickly as he could.

Leaving them alone. The ceremony was to take place shortly, and Tobirama felt…

Not ill, per se. He was perfectly willing to do this, and was the best suited to do so -  being the one to secure the peace treaty between Senju and Uchiha and put an end to the seemingly endless war. He had no previous romantic attachments or relationships to get in the way, was from the main family but not the clan head; he was a capable shinobi, strong and able to provide. All up, the perfect candidate. He had even been the one to volunteer. It only made sense, after all.

But even still...

Maybe he was… unsettled. Perhaps that was the best way to phrase it. For most of his life, Tobirama had expected to die before reaching adulthood - as was the norm for many of the children born to the Senju. He would train to be the perfect soldier, fight whatever he was pitted against, and die when he would inevitably face someone who was stronger than him - because that was how the life of a shinobi was. And now, all of that was up in the air - peace was looking to be more than a pipe dream, and Tobirama - who had expected to be alone until he died - was suddenly to be married.

To an Uchiha from the head family. An equal, to match his position.

It was a condition for the peace treaty. A political marriage to solidify the tentative bonds that linked the Senju and Uchiha. The life Tobirama had pictured he was going to live was no longer feasible. There would still be fighting to come, missions to take on, but he would no longer be alone, and he would no longer have to fear fighting the Senju’s long time enemy.

It was an odd, difficult pill to swallow.

He wondered if that was what it felt like for Indra.

A part of him wanted to ask, but it felt like a taboo topic. The solitude of their quiet little bubble was nothing more than an illusion, and it would be easy for any doubts to be overheard by the wrong person. Though the majority of both clans wanted this alliance to work out, there were still those among them who wanted the cycle of hatred and revenge to continue.

As much as Tobirama was uncertain about what his new future might bring him, he was going to make the most of this. He knew without a doubt it wasn’t going to be easy, but he was going to try.

He was to marry a man who, frankly, scared him more than a little bit.

Indra Uchiha was Madara Uchiha's elder brother. He was possibly the most powerful - the most _dangerous_ \- man to be birthed by the Uchiha clan. And had it not been for his condition, he would likely be the clan head.

_And who knew where they would be now, if that were the case. Would there be peace, or would they still be at war?_

Before this, Tobirama had only come face to face with Indra only once - before Indra was forced to step down from his role as clan heir and be sidelined, lest he become a liability.

Tobirama was lucky to have escaped with his life. His side still twinged from the memory, even if the scar had long since faded.

“You're taking this better than I would have expected.” Indra's voice roused Tobirama from his thoughts, and he blinked, betraying his surprise. But Indra wasn't looking at him - instead he was looking out over the mingled Uchiha and Senju, not a single thought or emotion clear on his face. “By the way Madara and Izuna go on about you, I would have expected at least some protest to this union.”

Tobirama couldn't help his grimace. He almost began to fiddle with the ceremonial fan he held in his grip, but instead just tightened his fingers. “In the beginning, I was very skeptical. A part of me is, perhaps, still uncertain that this will work out. But I’m willing to try.” His eyes slid over the crowd, and landed on the familiar tall, broad figure of his brother. “For the sake of the clan. And my brother.”

He looked back to Indra, and asked before he could help himself, “and what of you? Why did you agree?”

Indra’s head shifted to face him fully. His face was a blank slate, as if he had been carved from marble - but his eyes were searching. Appraising.

Tobirama held back a shudder.

He could remember that look being directed at him once before. Though they lacked the ominous red glow, the intent behind those eyes was the same.

Those eyes were judging him. Considering him. Trying to determine just where Tobirama fit in the grand scheme of things.

Those eyes had looked at him just like that, nearly a decade ago. They had taken in his hunched, bleeding, terrified form, and wondered whether it would be worth it to kill him or not. The moon had been full that night, and Indra's form had been backlit by an ethereal white glow. And those ominous, glowing, otherworldly eyes had held Tobirama frozen.

That night, Tobirama had felt like he was looking into the face of the reaper himself.

Indra had dismissed him. Categorized him as a non threat, judged him unworthy of death, and had simply walked away; leaving Tobirama alive, terrified, and very, very confused.

And now, under the late morning sun, on the day they were to be united in a political marriage, Indra looked at him with those same considering eyes.

But this time, it seemed that Indra would not dismiss him.

Perhaps, he had finally judged Tobirama as worthy.

Worthy of what, though?

Tobirama watched as Indra's pale lips pulled into a bitter smirk, and he said, “to the clan, I had lost all of the value that I once held. My existence was, essentially, meaningless. Now, however… it would seem I hold value after all. Who am I to deny my clan?”

Indra held value as a political pawn. Tobirama knew how that felt.

Their illusion of solitude was shattered when Hashirama suddenly appeared by Tobirama's side, a dour faced Madara close on his heel. His face was flushed with happiness and not a little pride, and when he looked at Tobirama his eyes were wet with tears. He sniffled. “The ceremony is about to start. Are you ready?”

Tobirama gave his brother a look of distaste, but as much as he wanted to tell Hashirama to reign it in, he simply sighed and nodded. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

Madara took a step closer to Indra, his dark eyes full of concern - and hesitance. “And you, brother?”

Indra just looked at Madara, his face as blank as ever, and like that he simply - dismissed Madara's words by looking away, and he started forwards towards the building the ceremony was being held in.

Tobirama had the rare opportunity of watching Madara's face crumple. He watched Indra’s retreating back with a sadness so apparent it was… kind of a pathetic sight.

What in the name of the Sage was going on there?

Indra didn't move too far away before he paused once more, and looked over his shoulder to Tobirama. He quirked a brow. “Are you not coming, my soon to be husband?”

Feeling his stomach flip, Tobirama swallowed, steeled himself, and gave a silent nod.

He was going to do this. For the sake of his clan. For his brother.

Maybe it would even work out well for all parties involved, and things weren’t going to spiral into irrevocable disaster.

With the look Indra gave him as he reached his side, blank expression marred by a small smirk, Tobirama thought at the very least - whatever this new future was to bring, the journey was certainly going to be… Interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just beyond overwhelmed by how many people like this, and i know I say that about like, every fic I start but it still just hits me right in the heart aaahhhhh
> 
> Anyway I was inspired to get this chapter out as soon as possible!! I'm sorry for dragging y'all down into this little corner of rare pair hell lmao
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> Ummm warning for this chapter I guess? Tobirama's drunk and assumes marriage consummation is going to happen, but nothing actually happens x'D

Everything was much too loud.

The party was in full swing, and the sight of Senju and Uchiha having put aside all of their differences to eat and drink and dance together would have ordinarily had Tobirama staring in disbelief. But the alcohol in his system was making him tired, and he couldn’t quite get his vision to focus.

Normally, he would not drink at all. He detested most of the alcohol he’d ever had the misfortune of drinking. Hated the taste, hated the way it affected his mental processing abilities, hated the way it dulled his reflexes. Hashirama usually drank enough for the both of them. But normally, he would not have just gotten married either. 

He was surrounded by former enemies, having just been married off to one of them. He’d thought that maybe, just this once, he could make an extremely stupid decision and get drunk. Provided that this whole situation itself wasn’t some complete, utter, even worse decision.

He wasn’t sure how much he’d drunk. At some point Hashirama had tried to cajole him into having a dance with his new husband, and when that didn’t work he’d tried to persuade him to have a dance with him, but Tobirama had shaken him off and remained where he was seated - claiming that he wished to eat. 

He was seated next to Indra, who was watching the proceedings with that same blank expression he’d held throughout the entire ceremony. As Tobirama nursed what he assumed was some kind of whiskey from some far off land and got proceedingly more muddy-headed, Indra began to delicately nibble at his plate of food, black eyes darting around, never remaining in one spot for more than a few moments at a time. It was probable that he was uncomfortable as well, and though Tobirama would never admit it, he delighted in the fact that he wasn’t alone.

Of course, that was if Indra actually  _ was _ uncomfortable. Tobirama could just be projecting. 

“You should eat.” Indra stated, voice raised just a little to be heard over the festivities. “You’ll make yourself ill if you do not.”

Tobirama jerked a little, startled. And immediately cursed himself for it. Truly he couldn’t be that drunk to have forgotten himself…

He looked at Indra with narrowed eyes, and then towards the platter of food that had been placed before him. Having something solid in his stomach would help with preventing him from being utterly miserable and help begin to sober him up, but…

Did he really want that? Maybe he wanted the rest of the evening to pass in a blur. Maybe he didn’t want to think about the fact that, once they retired to the rooms that had been provided to them, they would be required to… consummate the marriage. 

Tobirama sniffed and averted his gaze. “For all I know it could be poisoned. There are plenty who weren’t keen on this union, and now would be a perfect time to strike.”

Indra just let out one of those soft, almost amused sounding ‘hmphs’ and continued to delicately pick at his own plate. Tobirama watched as he ate with small, almost bird like bites, completely unhurried, and Tobirama wondered whether he actually had an appetite or not as well.

Then, in a move that had Tobirama blinking in shock and wondering whether he was hallucinating, Indra abruptly reached over, picked up Tobirama’s plate, and swapped it with his own.

“There. Unpoisoned, as tested by myself.” Indra’s dark eyes crinkled in amusement, and Tobirama suddenly found himself a little dumbstruck. He couldn’t help but stare at the first true, obvious sign of emotion on Indra’s face.

And it was a positive one at that. It seemed to make everything about him soften.

It was over too soon, and Indra turned back to Tobirama’s - now his own - plate, and resumed those delicate, bird like bites.

… Well. Now he supposed he had no excuse to not eat.

Tobirama shook himself and let out a faint snort. Slowly he began to pick at the food, and all the while his mind kept replaying the image of Indra’s amused expression. Oddly, he found himself relaxing, his shoulder muscles loosening and his stomach unknotting, and in the end he ate more than he initially thought he would.

With a full stomach, a great deal of alcohol in his system, and that odd relaxed feeling replacing the stress of the situation, Tobirama found his eyes growing heavy. He vaguely registered Indra beside him, a hand on his bicep that had him tensing up and his eyes flying open. 

And staring into Indra’s dark eyes.

He was leaning in close - almost too close, and Tobirama had to resist the urge to pull away and create some more distance between them. With how he felt then, it was more likely that he’d wind up on the ground. The Uchiha - now Senju? He couldn’t remember what names were being taken much to his internal embarrassment, and it was enough to shake him from his daze. As if sensing his discomfort, Indra pulled back just a little bit, and said softly, “I believe it is time we retire for the night, no?”

A shiver crawled down Tobirama’s spine. Retire. They were expected to…

He swallowed thickly and resisted the urge to say no. That he was perfectly fine where he was. But that would likely just result in him embarrassing himself - acting like a child, saying he wasn’t tired and wanted to stay awake for just a little longer. The very thought made his face feel hot. Or that could be the alcohol. Or the fact that, once they retired to their rooms, they would have to…

Tobirama averted his eyes and let out a breath. “Alright.”

He pulled away from Indra’s touch and got to his feet - more steady than he initially thought he would be - and together they slipped away from the festivities. Tobirama’s eyes caught Madara across the courtyard - the Uchiha clan head was sitting as dignified as he could with Hashirama practically passed out on his shoulder and drooling onto his formal robes. Madara’s eyes met his, and Tobirama inclined his head a little in acknowledgment. At least he thought he did.

His head began to spin and it was like the world went all topsy turvy. He only had a moment to feel regret before a hand hooked around his bicep and steadied him.

Indra's chakra buzzed across Tobirama's skin at the contact. It was hot - almost too hot, and he tried to wrench his arm away but Indra's grip was like iron.

It was funny how such a slender hand held so much strength within it.

Seconds later, Tobirama decided it was a good idea that Indra did not release him, because the world didn't stop spinning. An intelligible grumble left his lips, and Indra began leading them - somewhere.

In the back of his mind he knew this was one of the worst states he could be in. Surrounded by former enemies, drunk out of his mind, being herded around by his new spouse - also a former enemy - like a child. It was ridiculous, and embarrassing, and Tobirama was regretting every one of his decisions that had led up to this point in his life because now he had to consummate this new relationship - or he was going to end up dead because this was all just some elaborate trap.

He wasn't sure which option he prefered.

Their surroundings went by in a blur, and Tobirama finally registered that they were indoors. There was some recognition - this was the suite that had been assigned to both him and Indra for the duration of their stay. Tobirama had only caught a glimpse of it before being rushed out to prepare for the ceremony, and had been given assurances that it would be ready for his and his new husband's occupation that night.

Well, it was night now.

The full weight of what was now expected of them hit Tobirama like a wayward earth jutsu. He felt his knees weaken and his stomach turn, and suddenly he worried that he was going to throw up all that he'd managed to eat.

It was embarrassing.  _ Infuriatingly _ embarrassing, and he shook himself in an attempt to dispel the nervousness, but that only cause him to stumble some more.

“Steady there.” Indra murmured by his ear, causing him to shiver. He wasn't letting Tobirama fall. He felt himself be pulled down a hall and into the bedroom, and began to truly fear that he was going to lose his dinner.

Though whether from nerves or by the way everything was still spinning, he wasn't certain.

There was a gentle push, and Tobirama fell on his rear to the bed. He blinked blearily up at Indra - something primal within him bristling as the Uchiha towered over him, and couldn't quite hold back the flinch when long, thin fingers began plucking at his clothes - gently pulling the heavy fabric off.

Tobirama's heart was in his throat. Or it was bile. His hands shook a little and he fisted them into the bed sheets below. He was being ridiculous. Positively stupid. What was to come was nothing to be afraid off. He knew the mechanics, knew what was expected of him. He  _ didn't  _ know what role he would prefer, or what Indra preferred either, but he supposed that would be discovered as things progressed. By the Sage, he just wanted to be back home in the Senju compound and holed up in his lab -

Cool air hit his flushed skin, and Tobirama registered that he was now, somehow, fully undressed save for his underclothes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stared down at the ground, trying to steel himself for what was next to come. 

He needed to reciprocate, didn't he? Indra had undressed him, he should return the favor-

Warm fingers lifting his chin startled him. Tobirama stared blearily into Indra's eyes, confused and a little transfixed by those dark, consuming depths - and cool glass was pressed to his lips, and the Uchiha ordered calmly, “drink.”

Blessedly cool water flowed across his lips and into his mouth, and Tobirama found himself obeying without question. It could have been poisoned for all he cared. It soothed the heat in his face, washed down the lump in his throat, and Tobirama let out a sigh when the glass was pulled away.

And found himself looking up at a still fully clothed, expressionless Indra.

Tobirama clenched his hands into the bedsheets again. The nerves returned with full force, and he tensed, trying to get his tongue to cooperate with his mind. He couldn't believe he was acting the clichéd blushing virgin-

“Lay down.”

Another order. His pride tried to rear up at that, indignant at being pushed around and told what to do, but it died as quickly as it had arisen. Tobirama did as told, his breathing beginning to pick up in panic, but-

All Indra proceeded to do was grab the bedcovers, and pulled them up around Tobirama's shoulders. Tobirama could only lay there in shock for a few moments, his mind reeling and unable to comprehend just - what was going on.

Finally, he managed to get his mouth under control. His words slurred a little, but he was certain he was clear enough. “But - the marriage contract. We have to-”

There was a soft ‘hush’, and Tobirama felt a hand in his hair - pushing strands back from his sweaty forehead. Tobirama felt overly warm as he stared up into those dark, dark eyes. Indra’s lips were pressed into a grim line, and he said, “You are in no state to do anything. What comes next can be discussed tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

Tobirama frowned, even as an almost overwhelming sense of relief bloomed in his gut. He knew that for the contract to remain valid, they were required to consummate the marriage as soon as possible, but -

But he was drunk. He was tired. His eyes were growing heavy. And Indra wasn’t pushing for anything. 

Indra wasn’t pushing him into anything. 

It felt like Tobirama’s limbs became boneless as he fully relaxed into the mattress, and he closed his eyes with a sigh. He felt Indra’s hand linger in his hair for a few seconds longer, before it pulled away and left him feeling oddly bereft.

But it didn’t last long. Tobirama slipped easily into a deep, heavy sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobirama had the unfortunate experience of waking up to a pounding head and a mouth feeling like something had crawled in it and died.

With a quiet groan, he rolled onto his back and stretched out his limbs, blinking blearily up at the ceiling. The spot next to him felt oddly warm, like the spot had only recently been vacated, and for a moment Tobirama wondered why.

And then yesterday's events caught up with him, and Tobirama abruptly wanted to cease existing. 

He closed his eyes, rolled over, and shoved his face into the pillow, muffling his groan with the material.

With a flicker of chakra, he activated his sensing abilities. Indra’s  _ fire-burning-hot-death _ chakra was a small ways away in another room. The kitchen? It was hard to remember the layout of the suite they’d been given. A small ways off he felt his brother’s  _ tree-life-bright _ mingling with Madara’s own  _ fire-hot-dark _ and Tobirama hoped dearly - for the sake of everyone - that they had just fallen asleep in the same room and not actually  _ slept  _ together because that was just a potential disaster waiting to happen. There were more familiar chakra signatures peppered across the compound the Nara clan were so graciously allowing them to use as neutral territory, and Tobirama let out a long, heavy breath.

Everything felt… normal. Everyone he cared for was accounted for. As far as he could tell, nothing had gone wrong.

That was… good. 

Now he had no choice but to focus on the now, and immediately his mind flashed to the previous night - and the embarrassing spectacle he’d made of himself. Would it be too late to call the whole alliance off? To save himself any further embarrassment?

Maybe he could smother himself with the pillow. That seemed like a good plan.

His attention latched onto Indra’s  _ fire-burning-hot-death _ presence as he made his way out of one room and into the next, where he seemed to settle. Tobirama lay there for who knew how long, his mind turning over his actions from the night before, and the way Indra had simply helped him back to their rooms, dressed him down, and put him to bed.

Like a child.

Sage, he was such a fool. Such an  _ idiot _ . Why on earth had he gotten it into his head to get drunk like that? To get a little liquid courage so he could get through the next step? All he’d done was make an utter fool of himself in front of his new spouse. He couldn’t imagine what Indra must think of him now. 

He couldn’t lay there stewing in his misery for much longer. He was going to drive himself into insanity, and Indra’s presence was very bright in his mind’s eye - in a very distracting way, and made it difficult to think of anything other than him.

Like when he’d so carefully undressed him. Gave him water. Practically tucked him in.

Exhaling loudly, Tobirama forced himself up. 

There was a glass of water on the nightstand, and he downed it in a few gulps, before he stumbled to the connecting bathroom. He cleaned out his mouth and scrubbed his face, noticing the red smudges of make-up still around his eyes but not caring enough to properly wash it away. He felt a little more coherent as he made his way back into the bedroom, and located his clothes and other belongings that had been brought along a few days prior. 

As he searched through his pack for something clean to wear, he pushed aside his carefully wrapped armour, and wondered briefly just when he would need to don it once again. With this alliance between the Senju and Uchiha, there would be no more fighting between them. If Hashirama and Madara’s dream of a village was to reach fruition, then it was very likely that he would be taking on missions under a united banner. 

It was an interesting thought. Still… a little hard to imagine. But perhaps as time passed, it would become easier.

He just had to take this one step at a time.

He located a clean, light kimono shirt and pulled it on along with a pair of black pants, and as he reached the door he braced himself.

Alright. It was time to face the music. This was… this was his future now.

(He really, truly wish he could hole up in his lab and ignore everything. At least for a little while.)

Indra was seated at the low coffee table, a pot of tea in the middle and a single teacup on the side opposite of him. He was nursing a cup for himself, and seemed to be intently reading a scroll set on the table before him. He looked utterly immaculate, dressed in a dark kimono and a black haori bearing the Uchiha crest draped over his shoulders. His long brown hair hung loose down his back and shoulders, purple makeup immaculate under his eyes, and Tobirama stopped short.

Indra Uchiha truly was a beautiful man. 

A beautiful man who had killed so many. So many Senju. A man who’s very chakra radiated the sensation of fire and something that Tobirama could only describe as death.

A man he was married too. 

A long, never fully forgotten insecurity dredged up from the back of Tobirama’s mind, and for a moment he wondered whether he should have made more of an effort to make himself more presentable.

But the thought was quickly dismissed. They were married now. There was no need to try and… pretty himself up or anything, the sooner Indra got used to how Tobirama truly was, the smoother things would go. There was no need to raise any expectations.

Indra suddenly looked up, and Tobirama was pierced by those dark eyes.

“Good morning.” He said politely, and gestured to the other teacup placed opposite him. “I made tea. Go ahead and help yourself.” 

Tobirama wavered where he stood for a few moments, before he kicked himself and made his way over to the table and took a seat on the provided cushion. His body felt stiff and awkward, his head still hurt, and he was rather grateful that Indra had not made breakfast. Tobirama hated eating early in the mornings, so the tea was much more preferable. He murmured a soft ‘thank you’ and pulled the cup close, using both hands to cradle it.

They sat in silence for a while. Indra went back to reading the scroll, and Tobirama nursed his cup of tea and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He wasn’t a people person. The only people he truly enjoyed dealing with were his brother and a few select cousins. He’d never had a lover before. How did one interact with their spouse? Surely it wasn’t this awkward and nerve wracking for everyone. Tobirama just…

Didn’t know how to act. War and fighting and killing and jutsu and books and scrolls he could deal with.

People in general? He had no clue. Especially people who, only the night before, he’d made a fool of himself in front of.

There was a soft hum across from him, and Indra’s teacup clanked softly upon the table. “You think very loudly, Tobirama. Would you care to share what’s on your mind?”

Tobirama stilled, and against his will, felt his cheeks heat. He met Indra’s eyes and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. It felt odd, looking an Uchiha in the eyes. He half expected to see the blazing red of the Sharingan.

But it was just Indra’s black, black eyes - the same eyes he shared with his brothers. Somehow, it didn’t feel any easier to meet them.

Tobirama put his cup down. “About last night… I apolo-”   
  
“There’s no need.” Indra interjected before Tobirama could finish. He tilted his head just a little. “You were nervous and uncertain. It’s understandable that you drunk more than you could handle.”

Tobirama let out a breath. It was embarrassing, to have it just - stated like that. It looked like embarrassment was a feeling Tobirama was becoming very familiar with, much to his distress. 

Indra was, what, nine years older than his own twenty years? For a shinobi, that may as well have been a whole lifetime more. It wouldn’t be surprising if Indra had so much more experience than him when it came to life matters in general. So maybe he did understand.

But that didn’t make it any less embarrassing.

“It was improper.” Tobirama said after a moment. “I should have kept a better reign on myself. So…” He couldn’t help his grimace. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Indra let out one of those amused sounding ‘hmphs’. “From what I know of you, it seemed very out of character. Judging by everything that Madara and Izuna have told me of you, you’re not one to get blazing drunk amongst a crowd of barely former enemies. So, am I to assume you were merely building yourself up for consummating the marriage?”

If Tobirama’s face had felt hot before, it was nothing compared to how it felt now. He barely restrained himself from scrubbing a hand down his face, and instead just averted his eyes, his lips twisted into a scowl. “You could… say that. Why did you, ah… well. I was ready-”

“You were not.” Indra said firmly. “You were far from ready for anything. I was not going to fuck someone who is unwilling, marriage contract or no.”   
  
Tobirama grit his teeth and shot Indra a glar, though the Uchiha was far from cowed, expression as blank as ever. “The marriage needs to be consummated. That’s how it works. Otherwise, this alliance is just a farce.”

Surprisingly, Indra rolled his eyes. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ridiculous ancient contracts should have been reworked’, before he suddenly stood up and made his way around the table.

Tobirama tensed up as Indra knelt by his side, and leaned away when Indra leaned in. The Uchiha quirked a brow. “It has to be consummated, yes, but that does not mean we must immediately go right into ‘fucking’, my dear husband.”

The ‘dear husband’ took him off guard. Tobirama flushed, feeling his heart in his throat once again. “What do you - mean by that?”   
  
The look Indra gave him clearly meant he was questioning Tobirama’s intelligence. But then that look faded, as some realisation seemed to dawn in those dark depths. “Ah. That’s it. You’ve not had much experience, have you?”

Tobirama grimaced again, embarrassment and anxiety and something he wasn’t quite willing to identify causing his stomach to flutter and churn. He scooted away a little across the floor, and Indra crawled after him - still not touching him, but remaining close. It felt like a blow to his pride to say, “Not much, no.”

His eyes fell to watch Indra’s hand as it was raised, and the Uchiha pressed his palm flat to Tobirama’s chest. It felt almost too hot to the touch, and the distinct memory of those hot hands helping him walk last night came to mind, bright and clear. He registered vaguely that Indra’s nails were painted black. His  _ fire-burning-hot-death _ chakra felt like it was sizzling beneath the surface of his skin, so very, very close.

“No?” Indra tilted his head again.

“...None.” Tobirama breathed. 

“None…? I see.” He watched as Indra's pale lips curled into the barest of smirks. Their faces were close, so close, Tobirama could feel his breath fan out across his lips, smelling faintly of green tea, and Tobirama's own breath caught in his throat.

“Then what I said before-” Tobirama's heart stuttered in his chest when Indra closed the remaining distance between them, and trailed his lips over Tobirama’s cheek and to his ear. His voice was a soothing rumble, sending shivers down Tobirama's spine. “It means that… we go slowly, my dear husband.”

He ended his sentence by placing a small, burning kiss to the shell of Tobirama’s ear, and it felt like the floor dropped out from beneath them.

Slowly? That - that didn’t seem like a bad idea. So long as… so long as something happened between them, then it would count as consummation, surely?

“Alright.” Tobirama murmured, and when Indra pulled back and smiled at him, Tobirama couldn’t help but feel like he had just signed his soul away to a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more arranged marriage AU shenanigans, have a looksee here~ http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com./tagged/arranged%20marriage%20au


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with chapter three! I'm sorry if this seems a little odd too read, but I've written so much today to try and distract myself from pet issues aahh;;; Speaking of, I posted a series of drabbles related to this fic too! You can find them in the collection 'Wolves Without Teeth' ahaha
> 
> But yeah! I hope you enjoy this smutty beginning, with a little reveal at the end~

Indra's hand felt like it was burning against his chest.

Tobirama instinctively knew the Uchiha wasn't using chakra. His sensory abilities were practically always switched on when he was awake, so he would have noticed if Indra began to use any chakra. But even still - the hand against his chest, his body so close to Tobirama's own, it felt like he was using chakra to heat the air around him.

It felt like he was being burned up from the inside. And all Indra was doing was simply pressing a palm to his chest.

He wondered if Indra could feel his heart racing.

Tobirama felt dazed. He couldn’t focus. His sensory abilities flickered off, unable to concentrate enough to keep the chakra flowing. Indra leaned in again and his lips were hot against Tobirama's cheek, tracing the red slash. There was a hint of wetness, and Tobirama's breath hitched when he realised that had been Indra's tongue. A small, strangled noise worked its way up his throat, and Tobirama did his best to keep it down. But if the way Indra's breath huffed against his cheek in what could only be a laugh, Tobirama registered that he likely failed.

Sage. What was going on? He was being undone by a single touch and a hint of lips - he was being _pathetic-_

“Come closer.” Indra murmured. His hand dipped in between the opening of his top, pulling it loose from its tie and allowing it to fall open. Tobirama abruptly felt exposed, even though Indra had seen him in a worse state the night before. He had to focus on keeping his breathing even. That hand trailed down his chest and abs, fingertips scorching, and gripped his waist. He gave a gentle tug, and Tobirama didn’t even think about resisting and shifted forwards.

He was now practically in Indra’s lap, his legs stretched out on either side of his waist. He stared at the Uchiha with large eyes.

Never would Tobirama have imaged he would be in this sort of position. _Ever_.

Indra met his stare with an amused gaze of his own, pulling a feeling of disgruntlement from the Senju - he couldn’t help but feel like Indra was _laughing_ at his lack of experience - and then he was suddenly breathing in green tea and fire as Indra closed the short distance between them with a kiss.

Indra's lips were very soft. Tobirama’s mind promptly short circuited.

His body didn’t know what to do. His hands reached out, grasping at Indra’s shoulders. His fingers fisted the material, holding it tight. He gasped against Indra’s mouth, and the Uchiha took full advantage of that, tilting his head just slightly to allow their mouths to better slot together. A bolt of electricity shuddered down Tobirama’s spine and he found himself pressing into the kiss, returning it tentatively. Indra gave a pleased hum at that, and then suddenly he was pulling away with a parting nip at Tobirama’s lip, and the Senju stared at him, utterly dazed.

“Am I to assume that was your first kiss, too?” Indra murmured. Tobirama expected a teasing tone to his voice, to his face, to his eyes, but there was none. Just simple curiosity.

Tobirama let out a breath, and gave a nod. “I am… I was never interested of pursuing an intimate relationship. There was no time, and I saw no value in it. And people…” He grimaced. “People are annoying.”

At that, the corners of Indra’s eyes crinkled in amusement again - just like the night before, and once again Tobirama found himself a little dumbstruck.

Indra’s smiles were… dangerous. Just like the man himself.

Tobirama was _married_ to this man.

“I can agree with that statement.” The Uchiha said, and to Tobirama’s surprise he leaned in to place another kiss to his cheek. “I do hope you don’t find me to be annoying, then.”

“No.” Tobirama said quickly. He swallowed when he felt those lips trail down to his jaw, and inhaled sharply when something hot and wet lapped across the skin. He clenched the Uchiha’s haori tighter and struggled to get his tongue to cooperate. “You’re - you’re certainly more tolerable than a - than the majority of my clan. No - nowhere near as annoying.”

But he didn’t know what Indra was thinking. He wasn’t annoying, far from it. What he was -  was _dangerous_. Tobirama had to remember that.

There was a soft huff of laughter, and those lips trailed to Tobirama’s racing pulse point. “I am happy to hear that.”

Tobirama felt teeth on his skin. He arched as that hot mouth bit down, that scorching tongue lapped at his skin - and then suddenly, Indra’s hand pushed its way into his pants and grasped his half-hard cock. Tobirama bucked against him on instinct, a strangled gasp escaping him as those long, elegant fingers wrapped around his length and gave it a teasing stroke.

Tobirama bit down on his lip in an attempt to keep an embarrassing noise at bay, breathing coming in quick pants. Indra’s mouth disappeared from his neck with one last parting suck, and then he pressed his forehead against Tobirama’s own, watching him with an intensity that had Tobirama’s stomach clenching in confused want. He couldn’t help but meet Indra’s eyes, and the Uchiha seemed pleased by that, if the way his lips curled up was any indication.

Indra’s hand tightened on Tobirama’s now fully hard cock, and he gave it a much more firm stroke. Tobirama’s thighs tightened around Indra, and he couldn’t hold back a needy moan.

He couldn’t handle those eyes. Tobirama squeezed his own shut.

Indra’s thumb swiped over the head of his cock, smearing the gathering precum. His voice was soft. “You don’t have to do anything right now. Just enjoy this, my dear husband. This is just the beginning. There is plenty more to come.”

Tobirama panted for breath, his stomach clenching as the pleasure grew. His eyes fluttered open, and it was to meet Indra’s own again.

Indra’s eyes were red, the sharingan glowing bright and ominous, and Tobirama’s heart leapt to his throat and his stomach suddenly churned with something like panic. His mind blanked. Sharingan always meant danger - he shouldn’t look into Indra’s eyes, to do so would be certain death-

But he couldn’t look away. The tomoe swirled languidly within those red depths, hypnotizing, utterly entrancing, and Tobirama trembled as the pleasure built and built until he was shaking with need. Tobirama squirmed and shuddered, bucking up into that hand, realising belatedly that - yes, there was no danger, Indra was likely just memorising Tobirama’s reactions-

Indra was memorising Tobirama’s reactions.

He wanted to - remember this-

The pleasure reached a crescendo, and Tobirama fell apart in Indra’s arms. His vision flashed white and he couldn't stop the whimper from escaping his lips as he curled in on himself, panting for breath. Indra’s strokes gentled, Tobirama’s release smeared over his fingers, and it was the first thing Tobirama saw when he was able to open his eyes. When he could actually focus. Those long, elegant fingers with carefully painted nails, now coated in Tobirama’s cum.

Tobirama couldn’t breath. He felt hot - much to hot, and he had to look away. He met Indra’s eyes once again, still brightly lit with the sharingan, and Tobirama’s heart stopped.

He couldn’t put a name to the expression Indra wore. At a later point, when thinking back on this moment, he would have realised it was complete, utter enrapturement.

Tobirama closed his eyes in an attempt to guard himself from that look. To block out it, and the Sharingan. He tried to unclench his fingers from Indra’s clothes, but his body felt weak and wouldn’t cooperate, and the Senju gave in to the internal struggle and just - slumped forwards, pressing his face to Indra’s neck. Indra, who was still fully dressed, and who’s hand was now coated in Tobirama’s seed.

He almost, _almost_ let out a groan to vocalise his embarrassment. He bit his lip to keep it in.

“There. That wasn’t too bad.” Indra’s voice had a smug edge to it, and it caused Tobirama to frown. “You did well, Tobirama.”

Tobirama’s face felt hot, and he didn’t know if it was from their recent activities or the sudden praise. He pulled away and frowned at the elder man. “Did well? What are you talking about? I did nothing.”

Indra’s lips curled into a small smirk. His eyes were black again, Sharingan deactivated, but it felt like those black depths were pulling him in just as much as the Sharingan did. “Oh but you did. You performed quite admirably, dear husband. I thank you for the show.”

He tilted his head at Tobirama’s disbelieving stare, the action oddly bird like. “You make a very pretty picture. Especially painted in red and white as you are.”

Tobirama’s mouth opened and closed, and he was at a complete loss for words. His face - his entire body felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if he was using his sensory abilities, and was able to feel the heat from Indra’s chakra pressing up flush against him. He’d overheat. Sage, it felt like he was overheating now.

Suddenly needing to - to get away, Tobirama forced his hands to unclench from Indra’s clothes and pulled himself out of the Uchiha’s lap. He scrambled to his feet, limbs shaky and feeling like jelly, but he managed to remain standing well enough to tuck himself back into his pants and tug his top back closed. Indra was looking up at him with a quirked eyebrow - not an ounce of amusement or judgement on his face, and Tobirama swallowed.  


“I -” he started, then stopped. Sucked in a breath and tried again. “I’m sorry, I need to-”

Indra waved a hand at him, a clear dismissal, indicating that he go where needed - and Tobirama’s eyes followed the motion, because that hand was still coated in _his cum_ and -

Tobirama left the room as quickly as possible, heart pounding in his chest. He stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed his face with cold water, trying to cool himself down. He felt so - so  _bizarre_ , like he was on fire, like he was floating, like he was going to be ill. From nerves? From embarrassment?

Sage, what was he becoming…

He wasn’t sure how long he remained in the bathroom, trying to calm himself. It was hard, because his mind kept replaying the sensation of Indra’s lips against his own, of his hand around Tobirama’s cock, of those burning red eyes boring into his own. Flashes of heat kept surging to his head, and he had to sit down and attempt to calm his breathing.

He couldn’t understand why he was acting like this. What had just happened was - was nothing to be embarrassed about. Was it just because his new _partner_ was an Uchiha? Or because it was Indra, specifically? Indra, who he could remember watching reduce men to bloody corpses and broken, screaming messes? Would he be acting like this if he was in this situation with someone - _anyone_ else?

A groan of despair escaped Tobirama’s lips, and he promptly ducked his entire head under the faucet and allowed the cool water to wash over him.

Maybe he could drown himself. Water was his element. It would be easy.

But then he heard something over the sound of rushing water. A clatter. The sound of something hitting the floor and shattering.

Tobirama was out the door and back in the sitting room in barely a second, and he froze.

Indra was sitting back at the table, scroll spread out before him, hanging half off the edge. Tea soaked the paper, and the teacup was in pieces on the ground. Indra’s face was flushed and slack, his eyes unfocused. Distant. As Tobirama watched, he swayed a little, jaw clenching and unclenching.

Tobirama took a cautious step forward, and knelt down before the Uchiha. He didn’t touch him, kept his hands firmly to himself, and called softly, “Indra. Are you alright?”

Indra’s eyes flickered to Tobirama, but they didn’t focus. He licked his lips, clenched his jaw, then licked them again.

Then he sucked in a harsh breath, nostrils flaring, and those deep black eyes were focused once more. Indra slumped, a heavy exhaustion weighing him down, and he scrubbed a shaking hand down his face.

“Are you alright?” Tobirama asked again, carefully. He tensed when Indra looked at him, expression tight, almost flinched when he sucked in another harsh breath.

“I'm fine.” The Uchiha said shortly. His movements were stiff as he pulled off his haori and used it to mop up the spilled tea, and Tobirama shifted a little closer to help, but Indra’s expression darkened. “I’m _fine_. I can clean up my own mess.”

Tobirama pressed his lips into a thin line, and watched as Indra began to pick up the broken teacup with shaking hands. Tobirama didn’t offer to help again - instead he stood and picked up the tea pot, and murmured, “I’ll make breakfast.”

Indra gave no indication that he heard, his head bowed as he picked up the ceramic shards, and Tobirama made his way into the kitchen, more than eager to stay away until Indra had calmed.

Tobirama had been told what to expect. Warned. Madara had been serious when they talked, as the terms were being worked out. It had probably been the first civil conversation they’d had, Madara speaking in hushed tones, his very being guarded.

The seizures didn’t happen too often, but…

It was enough to be a liability - especially in battle, where every second counted. All Indra needed was one moment of distraction, and then…

He felt a presence behind him, and Indra slipped past him and towards the sink where he deposited the shards and washed his hands. Tobirama stood there awkwardly, pot still in hand, and found himself at a loss.

These past few days had been an emotional rollercoaster, that was for certain.

Indra looked over his shoulder at the hesitating Senju, and let out a quiet sigh and held out his hand. “Here.”

Tobirama blinked, and handed over the pot. Indra’s hands were much steadier when he took it, and he turned back to the sink and began to wash it. He was pale, more pale than usual, but he seemed… much better than he was those few minutes ago.

“I apologise.” Indra said suddenly, and Tobirama stiffened. The Uchiha didn’t look away from the movements of his hands. “I am told I can get quite snappish in the aftermath. Usually I don’t make such a mess.”

Tobirama shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and managed to get his body across the kitchen to look through the cupboards in search of something to make for breakfast. He could move and talk as well. It would make things less awkward than just standing there. Indra would probably appreciate that more. “It’s alright. How often do they happen?”

“Often enough.” Indra said simply. He’d procured a cloth from somewhere and was drying the teapot - likely in preparation to make more tea. “But I do not wish to talk about it. Not on an empty stomach, at the very least. What is there to eat?”

Tobirama glanced at Indra out of the corner of his eye, and huffed out a sigh. Alright. Tobirama was curious, but he wasn’t going to pry and risk Indra’s frayed temper. “Not much. It looks like it’s just going to be rice and miso.”

“That’s fine.” Indra was prepping the tea as Tobirama pulled out the ingredients. He held himself stiffly, voice holding an edge, and the Senju couldn’t help but feel like a wall had been placed between them.

Well. It had been an eventful morning. Hopefully that would mean the day would pass without further incident-

There was a knock on the door to the suite. Tobirama stiffened, his sensing abilities flaring, and he recognised Hashirama’s presence.

Great. Just great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But yeah, I'm unsure if I wrote it correctly? But the 'condition' that Indra has is epilepsy. He suffers from focal onset seizures, and though he remains semi aware while they're happening, it can be enough to trip him up. 
> 
> But yeah, lemme know what you guys think ;v;/ I've really enjoyed writing and drawing these two together;;;


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eldest cat died recently, so things have been very off;;; I hope this reads okay.
> 
> I'm sorry there's no art for this chapter either, I kind of killed my hand working on a comic where Indra's a kitsune and attaches himself to Tobi ahhah
> 
> But yeah, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Please lemme know how you feel about it;;;

Tobirama sucked in a breath, and without looking at Indra, strode towards the door. Madara's chakra signature had joined Hashirama’s, and as Tobirama moved closer he could hear them arguing in hushed voices.

Tobirama did not want to deal with this. He was still hungover, just wanted to eat and either sleep or work on one of the jutsus he was developing, maybe keep a distance from Indra as well - he just did not need this-

He jerked the door open, startling the two of them. Hashirama gave a bright grin, and Madara glowered. Both looked like they hadn't slept well - their clothes were rumbled and their overall appearance was in a disarray. Tobirama swore by the sage, if they fucked then it better remain between the two of them. He did not want to  _ hear  _ about it.

“Good morning Tobi!” Hashirama crowed, much too loudly. “We just thought it would be nice to check up on you two! You know, just to see how you're going, how you two are adjusting to married life. You know know how it is!”

Tobirama scowled darkly. “No, Hashirama, I don't know. It's been a day. No, not even that, it's been a  _ night _ . That's hardly any time to ‘ _ adjust to married life’. _ ”

“Plenty of time to get…  _ close _ to one another.” Madara muttered. His eyes were fixated on Tobirama's neck.

Heat immediately suffused Tobirama's face, and he slapped a hand over his neck - too late in covering up the bruise Indra had sucked there not too long ago. He hadn't gotten a good look at it - hadn't focused on it because that would just add too many more thoughts to his already racing mind. He hadn't exactly registered that - that other people would be able to see it too.

Hashirama’s face lit up with sheer  _ delight _ . “Oh Tobi! You're getting along well enough to have already consummated the marriage? That's wonderful!” He whirled around to face Madara, grinning widely. “It looks like you were right, Madara! There really was no need to worry!”

Tobirama twitched, lips tugging into a frown - not a  _ pout _ , a  _ frown -  _ and he fought the urge to slam the door in their faces. His face felt like it was on fire once again, embarrassment churned in his gut - he hadn't wanted this to… to  _ get out _ , even though select members of the Senju and Uchiha clans would need to know that particular part of the contract had been fulfilled. 

Madara muttered something that Tobirama didn't catch, and it seemed like Hashirama ignored him in favour of pulling Tobirama into a suffocating hug. The younger Senju spluttered and attempted to shove him off, but Hashirama was built like a tree and was clutching him with a strength Tobirama just couldn’t match. “Oh Tobi, I'm so happy that this is working out! I'm so glad you're willing to get close to Indra! I knew this match would work out, didn't I say so Madara?”

Said Uchiha rolled his eyes, eyeing the dramatics with sneer. “You were sobbing and wailing on my shoulder worrying about Tobirama getting a broken heart. Don't make shit up to try and make yourself look good, idiot. As if you'd have to worry about him. He's practically heartless.”

Madara's words rang in Tobirama's mind, and he paused, gritting his teeth. Then he growled and managed to jab Hashirama hard in the ribs, forcing him to let go. He moved to grip the door handle and slam the door in their faces when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

The sensation of  _ heat-fire-death _ washed over him, and Tobirama froze, hand uselessly sliding from the door.

Indra stood by his side, looking entirely put together like nothing had even happened that morning, and he observed the two clan heads with blank eyes. “Hashirama. Madara. Good morning.”

Madara muttered a soft return, and Hashirama beamed. “Indra! Or rather - I can call you brother now, can't I? And you're older than me, so that would mean I can call you big brother-”

Indra promptly slammed the door in their faces.

Tobirama stared at the door for a moment in shock. He heard Hashirama squawk outside - the sound of agitated whispers - and then felt Madara move away with a dejected feeling, Hashirama following along behind him.

He turned to face Indra, incredulous - and a little amused.

Indra’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles - something that had Tobirama’s heart fluttering oddly in his chest - and pulled his hand away from Tobirama’s shoulder.

He immediately missed the warmth.

“Come.” Indra said, and turned back to the kitchen. “We should eat. I’m quite hungry.”

Feeling somewhat helpless, Tobirama followed.

 

* * *

 

 

They ate breakfast in silence. 

Tobirama couldn’t help how awkward he felt. He usually had his meals with his brother - and while not quite  _ loud _ , there was always bright, exuberant chatter to fill the hair as Hashirama talked about anything and everything. Tobirama came to think it was to keep their minds off of hardships of the day that would likely come. 

And now, he thought that maybe it was to keep away the quiet. Hashirama didn’t do well with quiet - it usually meant bad things were going through his mind.

Indra though… From what Tobirama had gathered so far, he was a quiet man. Much like himself, something Tobirama could very much appreciate. There were no words wasted, other than a soft ‘thank you’ as Tobirama handed him his portion of the rather lackluster meal, and he’d given a soft hum as he’d settled to eat.

Tobirama couldn’t help but watch Indra as they ate. He was sure he wasn’t exactly subtle about it either, but Tobirama’s mind was a bit too noisy to care. His mind kept churning over what he knew of his new husband. Of what had happened between them not so long ago.

Indra was the eldest of what was once five brothers. Now, only he, Madara, and Izuna remained. He was next in line to become head of the clan, until his condition made itself known, and during an ensuing clash with the Senju clan, he had been injured severely, and was forced to step down.

Tobirama hadn’t been there for that fight, but his father - Butsuma - and Hashirama were. His father had never fully recounted what had happened, but Hashirama had come to him that night - snuck into his bed, shivering from the memory of the battle in a way that he hadn’t since they were both much younger.

“He was going to kill me.” Hashirama had whispered. He clutched Tobirama tightly, and Tobirama had returned the embrace with as much strength as he was capable of, thinking that he could have lost his last brother and trying not to panic at the thought - “But then he just… lost his footing. And father found an opening, and… I don’t think he’s going to be alright. I think he was dying, Tobi. Father hit his lungs…”   
  
Tobirama couldn’t understand then why Hashirama sounded so dejected. Later, he would discover it was because Hashirama had befriended Madara, and that he was more worried for his friend losing his brother than Hashirama was for his own life. Then, Tobirama just chalked it up to Hashirama being - well, himself. Always caring, even for the enemy.

Tobirama remembered his own encounter with Indra, only a few months before that incident. The way those cold, malicious eyes had bore into him still invaded his dreams at night. He kept wondering why Indra had never taken advantage of his then injured state. Indra could have cut him down with complete, utter ease.

But he hadn't. He had simply looked at Tobirama, where he knelt on the ground, bleeding out, and then just… walked away. 

After the incident with Hashirama, there had been no word of Indra. No sighting. Butsuma had been happy - well, as happy as a man like him could be - that he had struck down the Uchiha's heir. He had been sorely  _ displeased _ when word reached them that Indra actually  _ was _ alive. Even though he was in no state to fight anymore, Butsuma had hoped for death. One less Uchiha to exist in the world.

Tobirama had tried not to think on it too much. It didn't affect him, it didn't affect his brother, it didn't affect his clan. Indra was a no longer a problem - a blessing for their clan. Tobirama had thought he would never see him again.

Then Butsuma died. The Uchiha clan head, Tajima, died not too long after. Hashirama replaced their father, and Madara replaced his, and though fighting still happened, it was nowhere near as vicious and devastating as it once was. Because Hashirama and Madara still met in secret, planned their dream of a village in which children did not need to be sent out to war, and slowly, they were working to convince their respective clan elders that a truce, that peace, that  _ unity _ was the most viable option if the clans were to ever flourish.

A marriage between two prominent clan members had been one of the things the elders pushed for, to compromise. To ensure that this wasn't a trap. No heirs were required to come of it, sage forbid they  _ interbreed _ , so a union between two men was acceptable. Hashirama had potential ties with the Uzumaki clan and needed to produce heirs, so all that left was Tobirama. It was the logical decision for him to step up.

As it was also logical for Indra. Indra, who was apparently too ill to fight or provide for the clan in any other way was chosen.

And here they were now. Here  _ Tobirama _ was. With Indra. Married to Indra.

Who despite being unfit for battle was still a perfectly capable shinobi, of that Tobirama had no doubt. Though the seizures happened often, they weren't fully debilitating. Madara had said that Indra remained aware during them. But it was still too risky to allow him on the battlefield, where lives depended on them. But even if they  _ were _ to risk that…

Madara said that Indra had never fully recovered from the injury to his lungs. Sometimes, he could be performing the most simple of stretches and he would get out of breath. Indra would only be able to fight so long as he could actually breathe. Sage forbid he actually be able to form the Uchiha’s patented fire jutsu. 

This peace… it would benefit Indra, Tobirama realised then. The clans could pool their resources, establish the village that Hashirama and Madara dreamed of, and with that stability they would be able to make great leaps when it came to the medical field. They would be able to try and find a way to properly fix Indra's lungs - to determine the cause of the seizures and find a way to treat them. Or at least manage them better.

Was that why Indra was being so compliant? Did he understand the true advantages behind this alliance?

“You're thinking too loudly again.” 

Indra's voice pulled him from his thoughts. The Uchiha had apparently finished his meal in the time Tobirama had been lost in thought, and was now sipping another cup of tea.

He was watching Tobirama with a quirked, perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Tobirama let out a breath. He hadn't even eaten half of his food. “I apologise. This is just… a lot. To get used to, I mean.”

Indra sniffed. “We have plenty of time ahead of us, so there's no need to rush. I just thought I should let you know that if you have any worries, or misgivings, the best thing to ensure a healthy relationship is to talk it out.”

Tobirama blinked. Then he frowned. “You are… very willing to see this peace last, aren’t you? You really want-” He paused and bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to keep his face from heating. “ _ Us _ to work?”

Indra hummed, mouth hidden behind the rim of his teacup. “I am. Is that so shocking to you?”

The Senju shifted a little in his seat, then forced himself still. It was so easy to forget himself with this man. “... Yes. A little bit. The only Uchiha I’ve met who’s vocal about peace is Madara, and even then he’s much more quiet about it than Hashirama is. I would have thought after everything, you would not wish to be… allied with us. The Senju. And I’m hardly proper spouse material.”

Indra’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”   
  
Tobirama returned the stare. “Say what?”

There was a tic at the corner of the Uchiha’s mouth, and he was silent for a moment, before he said, “I am hardly my brother. But nor am I my father. I was fully capable of seeing that the feud between our clans was pointless. But despite what you may think, my voice does not hold much sway with the clan. It was a miracle that Madara was able to convince the elders that this alliance was for the betterment our clan as a whole.”

Tobirama looked down at his now cold bowl of miso. “... I see.”

Silence once again descended upon them. Then Indra stood, and refilled his teacup from the pot. “Finish your breakfast, Tobirama. We can continue to discuss this later, if you so wish.”

Tobirama grimaced as Indra left the room, and after a moment continued eating.

 

* * *

 

There truly was nothing to do here. 

Tobirama had brought some books and seals he had been in the process of working on, but he felt… uncomfortable working on them here. Not exactly because of Indra’s presence - he was a former enemy, yes, but they were married now, and Indra would find no value in learning the secrets of his jutsu and seals. 

He just couldn’t relax. He’d finished his meal and cleaned up the mess he’d made, then paced back to the bedroom where his belongings had been stored. He passed the living room, where Indra was once again reading at the coffee table - he seemed quite content to do so, and Tobirama thought that maybe he should interrupt, so they could continue their discussion, but…

He was nervous. He could admit that to himself. Still so damn  _ nervous _ . He wasn’t…  _ fearful _ of Indra, not quite - at least, he told himself that. 

Wasn’t that funny. He knew of what some of the Uchiha clan called him. What he’d heard his own clan whisper behind his back. The White Demon.

How funny was it that he was so nervous around a single man?

Unbidden, his mind kept flashing to that morning. That hot touch, those red eyes…

Indra hadn’t even pushed for anything for himself. 

That just had Tobirama’s mind wondering to what  _ he  _ would do in return for Indra. It was only fair, right? And it wasn’t bad. Was far from it, in fact.

But… Indra hadn’t even looked that affected. He must have  _ enjoyed  _ it, otherwise he wouldn’t have activated his Sharingan to record it. 

But even still… Doubts lingered in Tobirama’s mind.

So he holed himself up in the bedroom, tried to preoccupy himself with a book, didn’t even try to work on the seals, and just - despaired.

What he wouldn’t give to be back in the Senju compound and at his lab. But the Senju weren’t scheduled to return back until the day after tomorrow. Which meant Tobirama had to stay like… this. For another full day.

His nerves were beginning to feel frayed. He couldn’t take this. He wanted so badly to simply use Hiraishin and-

… He could do that. There was nothing actually stopping him. Hashirama didn’t need him for anything. Planning for the village wouldn’t begin for a month at the very least. So there was no reason he couldn’t head back early.

However, it didn’t feel… right to leave Indra behind. As much as his presence played on his fraying nerves, if Tobirama had his lab to retreat to, then it wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring Indra along. It would allow Indra a chance to adjust to the compound without being completely surrounded by former enemies too. 

It would give them some distance from Hashirama and his bothering.

The more Tobirama thought on it, the more it seemed like a good idea. So much so that it became too much to contain, his determination grew, and he marched back out of the room and into the living room, and stood by the coffee table with his arms crossed over his chest.

It took a moment for Indra to look up, and when he did, he quirked an eyebrow, dark eyes sparking with something like amusement. “Can I help you, dear husband?”

The way he said that made Tobirama’s stomach flutter. He wasn’t sure if it was mocking or not. 

“How would you like to leave here now?” He said after a moment. “Our presence is not necessary, and I have projects back at the Senju compound that I would like to work on. If you don’t wish to come then I can go by myself.”

Indra tilted his head in that bird-like way of his. His eyes narrowed in thought. “Ah. You are speaking of using your teleportation jutsu, are you not? Izuna has mentioned it.”

  
Tobirama kept his face blank. Of course Izuna would mention it. Tobirama had almost killed him with it before. “Yes. I have markers placed back in the compound that I can take us to instantly. The distance isn’t too great, so it won’t be that much of a drain on my chakra, even if I bring you along.”

Indra hummed and he lowered his eyes to the table, clearly in thought. “Would we be alone there?”

Tobirama resisted the urge to squirm. Instead, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other - definitely  _ not _ a squirm. “In the house, yes. It’s the family home, so we’ll be staying there until Hashirama decides to begin construction. But not in the compound itself - only a small force of the Senju came to the ceremony.”

What was Indra thinking? Those dark eyes were distant, expression like porcelain.

Tobirama waited, and the seconds ticked by.

Finally, Indra moved. He pulled himself to his feet and started out the room. “I shall gather my things then.”

… Well. 

After a moment, Tobirama looked around for something to write on. It wouldn't be wise to leave without a word, otherwise Hashirama would likely cause an uproar. And Madara too. Couldn't forget about him. He found some paper and an ink pot and pen and scrawled a quick note, and then placed it on the coffee table.

He could feel Indra in the bedroom, moving around. After a few seconds of just standing there and hesitating, Tobirama sucked in a breath and moved to join him.

It seemed like in just a few moments, they would truly be alone together. This would be… interesting.

Indra glanced over as he entered. The elder man was carrying just a small pack, and Tobirama registered that the contents of that pack must be all that the Uchiha had brought with him.

Tobirama frowned. Indra had known that he was going to be staying with the Senju from now on. Surely he would have brought all of his belongings…?

Indra must have read his mind. He tilted his head and jostled the pack a little, a small smile curving his lips. “I only brought a few sealing scrolls with me. Clothes, weapons, a few books and scrolls the clan won't miss. I don't hold much else of personal value.”

“Ah.” Tobirama cleared his throat and bent to gather his own bags, throwing them over his shoulder. “You're ready then. Ah… come closer.”

Indra was still for a moment, before he stepped forwards, bringing the two of them chest to chest. Tobirama looked up at him and met his eyes, before he looked away and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's a bit disorienting the first time around. I apologise in advance.”

Indra quirked a brow and looked like he was going to say something, but Tobirama activated the jutsu before he had a chance. They disappeared in a flash of light. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter new chapter ayyye~
> 
> Sorry I'm neglecting all of my fics x''D I've gotten very in to the interactive drabbles I'm hosting on my tumblr lol.
> 
> But anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!!

The effects of the Hiraishin hardly bothered Tobirama any more, he was so used to it.

Indra, however, was very much affected.

As they appeared in the main living room, Tobirama barely had the chance to grab ahold of his husband as he staggered. Indra let put a choked noise and doubled over, and Tobirama fell to his knees with him as the Uchiha wheezed - coughing and trying to breathe at the same time.

Alarm and guilt surged through the Senju, and he found all he could do was rub Indra's back as he struggled to calm down.

He hadn't intended for this to happen. Different people reacted in different ways - the first time Tobirama had used the jutsu himself, he had thrown up everything he'd eaten that day. Granted, the jutsu had been a lot more unstable back then, and he'd since smoothed it out, but still. Hashirama had been so dizzy he’d tripped over his feet as soon as they had reached their destination.

He didn't think it would trigger _this_. And what was this exactly? Just - just a coughing fit brought on by Indra being startled? Had the jutsu strained his lungs somehow? Sage, what if the travel through space time had affected the old injury? Tobirama wasn't exactly talented with healing justu, he couldn't-

“I - I am alright-” Indra wheezed, snapping Tobirama out of his spiralling thoughts. The coughing fit seemed to have subsided, though Indra still seemed to be gasping for breath. He wiped at the spit coating his chin and mouth with the sleeve of his haori, looking very much a mess. He'd looked so put together only moments before. Now even the makeup under his eyes was smeared from the few tears that had escaped.

“Are you sure?” Tobirama’s hand stilled against Indra's back, and he gnawed the inside of his cheek in uncertainty. “I'm sorry. I didn't think the Hiraishin would trigger-”

“It's fine.” Indra breathed, cutting Tobirama off. His voice was raspy, strained. He closed his eyes and just - breathed in and out, as deeply and steadily as he could. After a few moments of that he opened his eyes once more and lightly began to dab at the corners with his sleeve - doing his best to not smear the makeup even more. “I was just - very much taken by surprise. You could say that - the air went down the wrong pipe.”

He sounded wry as he spoke, and he appeared to have composed himself once more, and Tobirama slumped in relief. It would have been a real blow to _everything_ if he had managed to kill his new spouse on the first day they were actually married.

Indra looked up at him with amusement curling his lips. “You were worried?”

Tobirama pursed his lips and averted his eyes. “Somewhat. Come, I shall get you some water for your throat.”

He dumped his bags in the centre of the living room to be taken care of at a later point in time and started towards the kitchen, feeling Indra slowly follow him along. 

He didn't look up at Indra as he moved. He filled a glass of water and held it out, barely managing to refrain from jerking back when their fingers brushed. That single touch was like a jolt of electricity up Tobirama’s spine, and before he could embarrass himself further, he busied himself with making tea.

Indra stood a small ways off, leaning against the wall and watched Tobirama as he sipped his water. Tobirama was very aware of the fact that Indra was watching him, and it made him nervous - his mind couldn’t help but return to some darker thoughts that he truly did try his best to ignore. But as much as he tried, he still couldn’t help but think of how Indra could just… strike at any moment. Kill him and be done with it.

Tobirama was of the opinion that any good shinobi had to have a healthy dose of paranoia if they wished to survive. But this - it was just _too much_.

He needed to get out of there.

Thankfully, he managed to keep his hands steady as he poured the tea into just one cup, braced himself, and looked to his new husband.

Indra was back to looking entirely unreadable. Tobirama couldn’t even discern anything from his chakra.

“You’re free to explore at your leisure.” Tobirama said. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “My - _our_ room is just down the hall, the last one, right next to the bathroom. There are plenty of books and scrolls you can go through if you wish. I-” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating that he was pointing outside. “Will be in my lab. If you, ah, need me, feel free to. Find me.”

With that, he hurried out of the kitchen, inwardly cursing himself.

It felt like he was running away.

Giving it some further thought as he stepped onto the back engawa and made his way to the small, shed like structure he kept his experiments in, Tobirama realised that yes - he was very much running away.

Sage, when had he become such a coward?

 

* * *

 

 

As was the norm whenever Tobirama was in his lab and no-one (his brother) was there to disturb him, he lost track of time. The hours passed in a blur as he struggled to remember where he was going with the half-constructed seal he’d left unfinished before the wedding, and then once he’d remembered he spent the rest of the time deconstructing and reconstructing the seal matrix to see if there was a better way to create it without making it overly complicated.

He didn’t pay attention to the way his stomach protested at the fact that he was missing meals. He ignored the way his eyes throbbed from the strain, even with his glasses on to help see better. It only served to make his head - still aching from the hangover - ache even more. But he pushed through it, because if he were to leave then he would truly be alone with Indra, and Tobirama was -

Being a damn coward.

It was only a glance out the window that had him pausing, and realising that maybe - just maybe, he should head back to the house. It was dark out, the moon high in the sky, and Tobirama realised he’d missed both lunch and dinner. And he’d left Indra alone in the house all day.

Guilt suddenly surged through Tobirama then. It was enough to get him packing up his notes and exiting the lab in a rush, and he made his way back to the house on silent feet.

It was dark, when he entered. No lights on in any of the rooms, as far as he could tell. A look in the kitchen showed no mess of dishes used, other than the pot and teacup placed in the drying rack. Indra hadn’t eaten?

Frowning, chewing the inside of his cheek in unease, Tobirama crept through the house on silent feet.

A look in the living room showed that the bags were no longer there. He slipped into the hall, past Hashirama’s room and office, past the storage closets, towards his own room. The bathroom door hung open ever so slightly, but the room was dark. A peek in showed it was empty.

That left Tobirama’s - and now now Indra’s  - room. Hesitantly, Tobirama opened the door.

Moonlight shone through the window, curtains open. Normally Tobirama slept with them closed, finding any source of light distracting as he tried to sleep. It helped with seeing though - and with Tobirama’s abysmal eyesight, any help was appreciated.

Everything looked to be in place, save for the empty bags placed on the floor by the foot of the bed. There were what appeared to be some scrolls open on Tobirama’s desk - storage scrolls? Perhaps the ones Indra brought along?

It took a while for Tobirama to register where Indra was exactly.

His bed had a lump in it. A lump that looked to be making itself as small as possible, curled against the wall. Long dark hair spilled out over the pillows, obscuring Indra’s face, and Tobirama was hit with the bizarre urge to creep closer and brush it aside.

Tobirama grimaced and gently closed the door, retreating to the bathroom to tidy himself up for bed. He did his best not to focus on the fact that they would be sharing the bed - even though they had the night before, Tobirama had been very drunk and hardly remembered the experience at all.

He gave himself a brief wipedown and brushed his teeth, and padded silently back into the bedroom. He didn’t really need sight to navigate to the closet to grab a pair of sleeping pants, and disrobed quickly and silently. Indra didn’t even twitch, suggesting he was deep asleep, and Tobirama was grateful for that. Less of a chance for an awkward meeting of the eyes once again.

Tobirama prayed he wouldn’t wake as he slipped beneath the covers of the bed. He did his best not to bounce the mattress, thankful that it didn’t creak, and squirmed into as comfortable position as he could get. Facing Indra on his side felt awkward. His instincts kicked into gear at the thought of sleeping with his back to him.

That left him laying on his back. He placed his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes. He could see light through his eyelids, and held in a frustrated breath.

He pulled the pillow out from under his head and pulled it over his face. Hardly comfortable, but at least it blocked out the light.

 

* * *

 

 

Tobirama didn’t sleep very well.

He was painfully aware of Indra curled up next to him. Sometime during the night, his spouse had shifted, a foot brushing ever so slightly against Tobirama’s leg in a way that had him jumping, startled.

Indra seemed undisturbed. Still sleeping soundly.

When Tobirama did manage to drift off, he dreamt of hypnotising red eyes and hot hands caressing his body, working him into a fevered state. It didn’t help that the bed was warm - much warmer than what he was used to, and he woke up every few hours sweating, overheated. Eventually, he gave into the urge and rolled onto his side, facing Indra and away from the moonlight spilling in through the window. Indra’s back was to him, so it didn’t feel entirely too awkward, and thankfully he was able to fall into a more comfortable sleep.

When he woke in the early hours of the morning, it was to a hot, hard body pressing up against his, and a quiet sigh breathing across his shoulder.

Tobirama immediately stiffened, well aware of a very persistent ache between his legs. One which Indra’s thigh was dangerously close to pressing against.

The Uchiha shifted again, letting out another soft sigh. He was facing Tobirama now - and Tobirama had a clear view of his face, close up as it was and lit by the early morning sunlight.

It was clear of make-up - the first time Tobirama had seen him without it. The dark circles under his eyes seemed livid somehow, without the purple paint to conceal them, and Tobirama thought that perhaps he had been wearing more than just that to hide the blemishes on his face. There was a small scar on his cheek, and - Tobirama squinted his tired eyes. Freckles, ever so slightly sprinkled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. For some reason it made Tobirama’s mouth go dry.

Indra… really was beautiful. Tobirama’s chest constricted, and again he was very aware of Indra’s tall, lithe body pressed so closely to his. His mind flashed to yesterday morning when Indra had pulled him into his lap, kissed him and touched him and-

Tobirama let out a shuddering breath.

Indra’s eyes fluttered open.

Tobirama found himself caught. Those dark eyes stared at him, uncomprehending, before they suddenly flashed red.

Tobirama moved on instinct. Indra had pushed him onto his back, straddled him, but Tobirama caught the hand that made to grip his throat in a choke hold. He latched onto Indra’s other wrist as it moved to do - something, and then they were just staring at one another, breathing heavily, Indra’s Sharingan blazing - which Tobirama couldn’t look away from.

It had all happened in a matter of seconds. It was over so quickly - Indra blinked, and the Sharingan deactivated, and he looked down at Tobirama with an almost disgruntled expression.

“I apologise.” Indra murmured. His mouth twisted into a frown, and his shoulders slumped. Tobirama released his wrists, heart pounding in his chest.

“It’s… alright.” Tobirama said haltingly. Indra didn’t move from on top of him. Tobirama lay as stiff as a board. “This is something we will… both have to get used to.”

“Yes.” Indra gave a short nod and looked towards the window - gauging the sunlight. “I tend to rise very early, it usually isn’t much of an issue. I suppose my body just wished for sleep more.”

“Right.” Tobirama muttered. He winced and flushed when Indra shifted, and prayed to the heavens that Indra didn’t notice.

He was still achingly hard.

And Indra very much _did_ notice, if the way he paused from swinging a leg over him was any indication. Slowly, he sank back down, and gave Tobirama a considering look.

A flush steadily crept up Tobirama’s chest, neck, and face. He couldn't look at Indra and slapped a hand over his face, muffling a small groan. “I - sorry. I-”

“Hush.” Abruptly, Indra ground down against his cock, causing Tobirama to jerk with a strangled noise. “There's no need to apologise. Would you like me to take care of it?”

Tobirama looked up at him and swallowed thickly. Indra's long hair was in a complete disarray, cascading down his back and shoulders, falling into his face. The light robe he had slept in was coming undone, falling part way open to reveal his chest and a sliver of a scar. Tobirama wondered vaguely if that was from the attack that damaged his lungs. That thought went completely to the wayside when Indra ground down once more, ever so slightly, and tilted his head, eyebrow quirked in question.

Tobirama's hands clamped down on Indra's thighs, and he bit down on his lip to stifle a noise that tried to slip out.

What felt like silk brushed against his chest as Indra leaned down, his hair pooling across Tobirama's skin, setting his nerves alight. Tobirama's breath hitched in his throat as their faces were suddenly inches apart. “It's alright if you don't want to. I do not mind.”

Tobirama became aware then of a hot, heavy heat pressed into his stomach, and Tobirama's mouth went dry when he realised that Indra was very much hard as well. Tobirama's fingers tightened on Indra's thighs.

Indra quirked an eyebrow, something dark and amused entering his eyes. “... Would you like to, Tobirama? In these kinds of situations, one must use words.” He closed the distance to brush a kiss to the corner of Tobirama’s lips. “Just so we can ensure we’re all on the same page…”

His words held a gentle teasing edge to them. An embarrassing strangled noise left Tobirama’s lips at that, and Indra huffed a soft laugh. His burning lips trailed from Tobirama’s mouth to his ear, where he murmured once more, “Would you like to?”

Tobirama swallowed. Indra was so warm and firm on top of him, he didn’t want it to stop. The incident from a few minutes before was the furthest thing from Tobirama’s mind at that moment.

(And wasn’t that funny? He’d been so paranoid about Indra, so worried about how dangerous he was, so worried that this was all just a trap, that mere seconds after an actual attack, Tobirama was willing to forget everything at the first press of flesh upon flesh.)

They were shinobi. It was bound to happen, in a situation like this. Where they hardly knew each other. Tobirama couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t have done the same. Add onto the fact that they used to be enemies…

“Yes.” Tobirama managed to get out, sounding somewhat less flustered. “Yes, I would… I would like to.”

Indra let out a pleased huff, and pulled back just enough so he could plant a kiss on Tobirama’s lips. It was a gentle, closed mouth thing that had Tobirama melting into it, and his eyes fluttered closed as a shiver crawled down his spine.

And then Indra shifted, sliding a well muscled thigh in between Tobirama’s own. His knee brushed up against his groin, and Tobirama arched with a gasp. Indra pulled away from the kiss, expression somewhat smug, and he urged Tobirama’s legs open wider and slotted in between them. Their bodies pressed flush, and Tobirama inhaled sharply as their cocks ground together through their respective clothes.

Indra’s eyes fell to half mast and he let out a shivering breath. One of his burning hands slid down Tobirama’s chest - the Senju realised distantly that his fingers were tracing the lines of one of his tattoos as it went. Down his side, past his waist and hip, and down his thigh - Indra’s hand hooked under Tobirama’s leg and lifted it, and Tobirama got the idea quickly, wrapping his legs around Indra’s hips. That changed the angle in a way that had Tobirama moaning, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

Indra’s lips curled into a small, almost savage looking grin. And then he began moving.

Liquid pleasure pooled hot and heavy in Tobirama’s gut and he tightened his legs around Indra, moving against him on instinct. Anything to chase the sensation of their cocks grinding together, to enhance it, to keep it going. Tobirama latched onto Indra’s shoulder with his free hand, needing something to hold onto, and his eyes remained fixated on Indra’s face.

It was his first time seeing such emotion cross his new husband’s features. His mouth had slackened, heavy breaths passing through parted lips. Colour painted his pale cheeks and his eyes seemed to have darkened further with arousal, and Tobirama suddenly found himself enraptured.

He didn’t want to look away. Couldn’t look away. Not even when those eyes flickered red.

That didn’t matter. It felt like Tobirama was already hypnotised. Adrenalin spiked when Indra gave another smile, and then he was ducking his head and nipping at Tobirama’s jaw with hot lips and sharp teeth.

Tobirama keened. The rolling, thrusting, grinding, toe curling pleasure, Indra’s hot mouth licking and sucking at his throat - it was a steadily building pressure building within him that he wanted so desperately to prolong, and for it to release, but it wasn’t - it wasn’t _enough_ -

“I-Indra-” Tobirama gasped. Indra hummed against his throat, sucking a dark mark into pale skin, just above the red tattoo already decorating his throat. “Indra, I n-need - nghn-”

He couldn’t voice it. The grinding was good - _great -_ but he needed something more, something to bring him over that edge. “Please-”

Indra bit down at his pulse point and wormed a hand in between them. At some point his robe had fully come undone - Tobirama could feel nothing but hot, sweat slickened flesh against him - and all Indra had to do was shove down Tobirama’s pants enough so he could grip and pull out his cock.

Grip both of their cocks. It was a little rough, almost on the edge of too much, but they were both leaking, close to the edge - it was enough to slick the way as Indra pumped them. His breath came in harsh pants against Tobirama’s neck, and the Senju scratched at Indra’s back, tugging hard at the material of his robe, thrusting into his hand, chasing his release.

It happened quickly. It washed over him in hot pulses and Tobirama arched up against Indra with a cry. Indra pressed his face to Tobirama’s neck, hot lips mouthing at the skin with vague intent - and suddenly blunt teeth bit down hard, causing Tobirama to choke on a whine. It was too much - too sensitive - but Indra kept moving his hand, the way eased by Tobirama’s release, and the Senju squirmed and jerked, almost to the point of it being _too much_ before Indra stilled and stiffened.

His groan was muffled against Tobirama’s neck. He could feel Indra’s release spill across his belly and chest, and for what felt like a long while they just - remained like that. Indra barely holding himself up so his weight didn’t fully lay on Tobirama, and Tobirama clutching at Indra’s robe, shivering with the aftershocks of pleasure, his mind drifting.

It would be easy to fall asleep like this. Covered in sweat and seed, yes, but satiated. Boneless and content. Tobirama’s mind was blessedly blank and free of complicated thought, just like the day before.

He… He wanted to stay like this.

He managed to hold back the disappointed noise that wanted to escape him when Indra pulled back, Tobirama’s arms releasing him, and he knelt between Tobirama’s spread legs.

The Senju shivered as those red eyes raked his form - he squirmed, feeling overly exposed, their mingled seed coating his stomach, and he licked his lips. Registered that he could see Indra practically fully exposed as well. He took in the sight almost hungrily - taking in the messy, flyaway hair and the flushed face, the nearly too thin and scarred body. He still retained muscle though, likely from training when he was able - and his eyes trailed down the V of Indra’s hips, taking in the neatly trimmed wiry curls and-

Tobirama forced his eyes away and scrubbed a hand down his face, letting out a shuddering breath. “That was - a way to start the day, I suppose.”

He heard Indra let out another amused huff and began squirming, moving to sit up-

Indra placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from moving. Tobirama froze and blinked at Indra, confused.

Indra looked at him with dark eyes, Sharingan once again deactivated, and purred. “Would you like to shower together?”  
  
Tobirama gulped, feeling his insides twist with another sudden need-

The moment was broken when there was an audible rumble.

It didn’t come from Tobirama, though it reminded him of the fact he hadn’t eaten anything other than breakfast the day before.

It had come from Indra, who Tobirama suspected was in the same boat. The Uchiha blinked a few times and placed a hand on his stomach. “... Ah. Could we perhaps have breakfast first?”

For some reason, Tobirama found himself holding back a giddy laugh.

A way to start the day, _indeed_.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So lemme know what you guys think <3 I rlly love to hear your comments!!

**Author's Note:**

> But yeah, if you have any questions I'll do my best to answer without giving anything away;;;;
> 
> and ahah here's some more semi racy art for this AU - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/183111356206/you-need-to-take-better-care-of-yourself-dear
> 
> And here's the comic to read it better on tumblr - http://blackberreh-art.tumblr.com/post/183093171776/indra-and-tobirama-arranged-marriage-au-is-a-go


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